Mad World
by BluEyes
Summary: An unexpected accident changes everything. Mondler. Yes, you read that right, MONDLER
1. Chapter 1

**Mad World**

**Chapter 1**

~.~

_8__th__ season. Maybe slightly cliché. Maybe an overdone idea at some point in time. I don't care. Hopefully, I have my own spin on it. It came to me during a neurology class I was taking a year and a half ago, and I started the first few chapters then (I just looked, and I started in April of '09 to be exact, lol). AAAAND, I realize that I have ten million fics going right now, but..well…I'm in a bit of a Randler-related-rut, writing-wise (50 or so hour work weeks don't help with the writing thing…), so…here's the Mondler everyone has been begging me for the past few months. And by months, I mean well over a year. I will hopefully get to finishing all of my fics eventually; life should be calmer in January. And this fic, in particular, won't be too terribly long. Under ten chapters._

_Oh, and the title is like the title of the song…the version sung by Gary Jules/Michael Andrews, like in _Donnie Darko_/every tv drama there is, though, not the Tears for Fears version. It's just so hauntingly beautiful :)_

_Man, I base a lot of fanfic titles on song titles. Can't help it; I love music._

_Reviews are much appreciated, as always :)  
_

~.~

"Hey, what time are we supposed to be at your parents for dinner tonight?" Chandler asked Monica, still tying his tie as he emerged from their bedroom. Though he really didn't mind Monica's parents, and had learned to more than tolerate them other than Judy's belittling of Monica, he would much prefer spending the evening alone with his wife.

Wife; that word still made him smile a bit giddily.

"Six," she replied, pouring a cup of coffee in the kitchen. She was still in her pajamas, hair piled on top of her head, and that alone made him smile wider. He always thought she was gorgeous, but there was just something about Monica in the morning that made him want to drag her back into the bedroom and say to hell with work for the day. "Want breakfast?" Monica offered.

"No, I have a meeting this morning," he gave her a quick kiss on the lips as he pulled on his jacket. "I can't be late. Although, I might be able to leave a little early," he pondered out loud, taking a drink of her coffee.

"Hey," she playfully hit his arm, grabbing the coffee mug back.

"Sorry, don't have time for a whole cup," he smiled in apology before kissing her again, this time a bit longer.

"Work? Meeting?" Monica asked, pulling back.

"Eh, I can be late," he gave her another quick kiss before pulling back. "I'll call you after my meeting?" he stated more than asked, and she nodded. "Love you," he added, grabbing his briefcase as he walked out the door.

"Love you, too," Monica said after him, shaking her head as she sat down with her coffee, picking up the paper. She only had to work the lunch shift today, so she had plenty of time to get ready. Too bad Chandler had a meeting this morning; the rainy day outside would have made it a perfect day to spend together in bed.

~.~

Monica literally ran down the city streets, though it was still drizzling, knowing that was probably faster than taking a cab. She immediately realized the mistake in that logic, though, as she was working the lunch shift. So, it was, in fact, lunch time, which meant the streets were crowded with people on their lunch breaks. For the few blocks, she dodged in and out of people and umbrellas.

Rachel had called her. Because Joey had called Rachel. Because Chandler had never actually changed his address, so, to the world, he was still living with Joey. Which is why he would have the same phone number as Joey. Which is why they called him and not her.

This was actually good, Monica told herself, because she had been at work, not at home. She hadn't even wanted to take the phone call since they were so busy, but at the words "Rachel" and "emergency," she had. Because of this, she also had assumed it had something to do with Rachel and the baby and hadn't quite braced herself for what the news actually was. At the words "Chandler" and "accident," she had begun shaking, the phone slipping from her hands as she received the details. The waitress next to her who had originally answered the phone picked it up and got the rest of the information from Rachel. Thinking about it, Monica realized it must have scared the poor girl. Monica didn't behave like that. Monica was the strong, boss, leader-type. Not the breaking-down-at-work type.

However, when it came to Chandler, she was definitely the breaking-down-at-work type.

"Monica," Joey yelled in relief, seeing her approaching the hospital.

"Joey, what are you doing out here? What the hell happened? How is he?" Monica asked, continuing through the hospital doors, not missing a step or pausing for a moment. Joey followed.

"They won't tell me how he is, Mon. They won't tell me anything because I'm not family," he admitted, following her. She was a woman on a mission, and rightfully so. "But, bus hitting a cab? That doesn't sound so good…"

"No, it doesn't," she hit the elevator button, biting her thumbnail, a habit that she had broken years ago but still showed up from time-to-time when she was nervous.

"Rachel should be here any minute. And Ross," Joey put his hand on Monica's shoulder, trying in some way to comfort her. "I haven't gotten a hold of Phoebe yet, though."

Monica nodded as they entered the elevator, and Joey hit the floor number. Monica looked down at her feet, trying to keep herself from panicking anymore until she actually knew something, anything. She was not the panicking type. She was a getting-all-of-the-facts type. She quickly followed Joey off the elevator, over to the receptionist.

"Mr. Tribianni, as I said before, I can't tell you anything about your friend's condition," she sighed as he walked up.

"I'm Monica Bing," Monica stepped in front of Joey, "I'm his wife."

"Have a seat, Mrs. Bing, I'll page your husband's doctor."

"You can't tell me anything about him?" Monica leaned forward on the desk. "Something…Anything?"

"I'm sorry," she smiled sympathetically. "His doctor should be here any minute, though. Go, sit down," she motioned to the waiting area. Monica lingered by the desk for a moment, finally giving in and retreating to the dimly lit waiting area at Joey's insistence as he gently grabbed her arm.

"If he's fine, she could have just told me that, right?" Monica asked Joey, voice shaking as she sat in one of the dull, stiff chairs. "Right?" she repeated, and Joey shrugged. "She wouldn't have to get a doctor. She could have just told me he is fine and that I can see him," she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, face in her hands. "Just, tell me he's fine, Joe?" she looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"I can't…I don't…" Joey placed a hand on her back, not sure what to say. He hated seeing Monica cry. Out of everyone, she was supposed to be the strong one. Seeing her break down like this, he felt like he needed to take over that role, because as much as Chandler meant to him, he meant a million times more to Monica.

"Mrs. Bing?" Both Joey and Monica leapt to their feet as a doctor entered the waiting room.

Monica squeezed Joey's hand, bracing herself for the worst.


	2. Chapter 2

**Mad World**

**Chapter 2**

~.~

Chandler woke up, incredibly confused as to where he was. He quickly scanned the room, taking in his surroundings: tiny window, distasteful painting, IV, Monica.

He was in a hospital room. Why was he in a hospital room? At least Monica was beside him. She was asleep in the chair beside his bed, leaning forward, arms crossed, resting her head on top of them on his bed. He felt as if he shouldn't wake her, but really needed some answers. His head felt like it was in a cloud, as if he had just slept entirely too long, or drank entirely too much the night before. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened and why he was there.

Nothing.

He finally touched the back of Monica's head. She would appreciate it, he thought. That position surely couldn't be comfortable to sleep in.

"Mon?" he whispered, and she stirred slightly. "Mon?" he repeated, and this time she literally jumped up.

"Chandler!" she exclaimed. "Oh my god," she sat down beside him, throwing her arms around his neck, tears in her eyes. "Oh my god!" she repeated, slightly louder and clearly excited. "You're really awake!" she squeezed him tightly before pulling back. "Oh my god, I didn't…I thought…" she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Mon, what-what happened?" Chandler asked.

"You don't remember?" she asked, and he shook his head. "Right, they said that can happen after a coma. And trauma to the head. You had a pretty bad concussion when they first brought you in," she gently touched his cheek, still in disbelief.

"I was in a coma?" he looked at her. "How long have I been here?"

"Six weeks," she whispered, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Don't cry, Mon," he touched her cheek. "Wait, six weeks? Did I miss the wedding?"

Monica looked at him, thinking for a moment. The last wedding they had been to was their own. There were no upcoming weddings. Did he not remember getting married yet?

"Sweetie, whose wedding?" Monica asked, holding his hand in hers.

Chandler stared back in disbelief. What did she mean whose wedding? Who else did they know who was getting married?

"Ross's wedding."

~.~

_Um…yea, I just went there. Thanks for the reviews so far, and keep them up, please :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Mad World**

**Chapter 3**

~.~

"Did I miss the wedding?"

Monica looked at Chandler, thinking for a moment. The last wedding they had been to was their own. There were no upcoming weddings. Did he not remember getting married yet?

"Sweetie, whose wedding?" Monica asked, holding his hand in hers.

"Ross's wedding," he replied, looking at her as if she was crazy.

"Ross?" she asked meekly.

"Yea, your brother," he smiled playfully. "Did you experience some head trauma?" he joked, touching the back of her head.

"Ross's wedding?"

"Yea, Ross and Emily," he looked at her, becoming more confused at her confusion. "What, did they not get married?"

"Oh my god," Monica broke their eye contact, looking to the ground. "I'm gonna-I'm gonna go tell the doctor you're awake," she moved to pull away, but Chandler held onto her hand, still confused and not wanting her to go. "I'll be right back. Promise," she squeezed his hand. He reluctantly let go, letting her fingers slowly slide through his own.

She was wearing a ring on her left hand. Not one ring, two rings. An engagement ring and wedding band. He stared after her. Who could Monica have met and married in the past six weeks?

She did say six weeks, right? Not six months or six years.

Or did she?

Chandler squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He opened them, looking around the room again. Suddenly he wondered if he had any other injuries. He wiggled his toes, his legs. Well, one of his legs. His other leg was in a cast. Moved his arms, his fingers.

His fingers.

He looked down. He was wearing a wedding ring, as well.

Did Monica say six weeks? Could she have said six years? That wouldn't explain his ring, though.

Why couldn't he remember what happened?

Chandler's eyes popped open as a nurse came in. She checked his vitals before asking him a few routine questions, to which he mumbled responses that must have been acceptable.

"Where did Monica go?" he finally asked, and she smiled at him.

"She'll be right back. She's talking to your doctor right now."

"Am I ok?" he asked as she headed towards the door, even more frustrated since she hadn't really told him anything.

She smiled at the frightened look on his face. "You're awake now. That's a very good sign," she nodded, and he gave her a quick nod in return.

A magazine on the bedside table caught his eye. He assumed from the girly looking cover that Monica had been reading it. Slowly, he picked it up. He squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to read the date.

March/April 2002.

2002.

His breath caught in his throat, and he suddenly found himself fighting for air…

~.~

"Hey, you," Chandler whispered, happily finding Monica at his side when he woke up again. This time, though, he at least knew where he was. No idea how he got there still, but he knew where he was. And Monica was again in the chair beside his bed.

"Hi," she gave him a small smile. "How you feeling?"

"Ok, I guess," he ran his hand through his hair. "Confused out of my mind," he laughed, though not a happy laugh. "What happened to me again?"

"I guess I didn't get that far before," she shook her head. "Um, the cab you were in got hit by a bus. It was pretty bad," she swallowed the knot in her throat. "For a while, we didn't think…they thought…" she trailed off, and Chandler knew how that sentence ended. "You've been here about six weeks. You passed out earlier. They think it was an anxiety attack. Do you remember that?" she asked, looking him in the eye, and he nodded.

"Wait, so you did say I've only been here six weeks?" he looked at her, trying to understand. "Not like, six months, or six years?" he pleaded, "Or four years?"

"I should-I should go get the doctor again. He wanted to know when you woke up," Monica choked out, standing up.

"Mon?"

"I'll be right back," she hurried out of the room, returning only moments later with who he presumed was his doctor.

"Mr. Bing," the doctor smiled, walking over to his bed.

"Chandler," he corrected him.

"Chandler," he started again. "I'm Dr. Smith," he held out his hand, and Chandler shook it. "I've been monitoring you for the past few weeks," he picked up his chart, scanning it for a moment.

"What's the date today?" Chandler asked, and the doctor looked up.

"April eighth," he replied.

"Year?" he asked nervously, and the doctor frowned at him, remembering what Monica had said earlier about his apparent memory loss and confusion over when it was.

"Chandler, what year do you think it is?"

Chandler sighed. "Well, I would say 1998, which would make sense in my head, because the last thing I remember was Ross's bachelor party," he began. "But, I would venture to guess that's wrong, since the magazine sitting over there says 2002," he motioned to his bedside table. "But, I swear you said I've only been in a coma for six weeks. So, really, it could be 2032, and I wouldn't know any different," he finished, defeated. He glanced at Monica for a moment, who was biting her lip, obviously trying not to cry.

"Mr. Bing-Chandler," the doctor corrected himself. "Have you ever heard of retrograde amnesia?"

"Amnesia?" he repeated. "But, I know who I am. I know my birthday. I know that's Monica," he motioned to her.

"Not that kind of amnesia," the doctor smiled. "That kind rarely happens outside of Hollywood. Retrograde amnesia usually happens as a result of a head trauma. Usually, you forget the days or hours leading up to the accident. Or, in some cases, the last few years," he continued. "However, you don't seem to have any anterograde amnesia, since you remember what happened earlier today, which is a very good sign. You'll need to have an MRI and a head CT," he made a few notes in the chart. "Dr. Jenkins will be the neurologist consulting on your case."

"What year is it?" Chandler repeated firmly, and the doctor looked up, hesitating.

"2002."

"2002," Chandler repeated out loud once, and then again in his head as the doctor continued on about something, Monica listening as she nodded along.

2002. Four years after the last thing he remembered. A new decade, a new century, a new millennium. He didn't remember turning thirty. He didn't remember getting married He didn't know who the current President was. Four years. He couldn't remember four years. He could have a new job (he laughed at that one a bit in his head). Someone he loved could have died in that amount of time. So much could change in four years…and obviously had, he thought, glancing down at his left hand.

Why couldn't he remember?

Chandler watched as Dr. Smith left the room, Monica following after as she continued asking him questions. Chandler squeezed his eyes shut, having never felt more like crying in his life.

Why couldn't he remember?

And, more importantly, what couldn't he remember?

~.~

_Thanks for the reviews, and keep them up, please! Reviews make me all warm and fuzzy on the inside, and it's super cold outside, so warm and fuzzy is nice :)_

_I don't know when I'll have time to update next, so, happy holidays!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Mad World**

**Chapter 4**

~.~

"Um, Dr. Smith?" Monica called out, seeing him leaving Chandler's room after returning from running the tests he had mentioned. "How long-how long is this going to last? Him not remembering?"

"We really can't know for sure," he stopped, giving her a reassuring smile. "The good news is that he doesn't seem to have any signs of anterograde amnesia, or problems creating new memories," he pointed out. "However, with retrograde amnesia, there is no sure course of treatment. No real cure. We don't _really_ know what in the brain causes it, aside from being a side effect of a trauma, and there's reason to believe that after awhile, it is more psychological than physical, since patients often begin questioning any memories they start to recover," he continued. "However, _most_ people who experience retrograde amnesia can recover all of their memory eventually, other than the few hours before whatever trauma caused it. It can be gradual or all at once. It just takes time," he gave her a slight smile. She found herself wanting to kick that smile he kept giving her right off his face.

"So, you…don't know what to do? You can't just…make it better?" Monica pleaded.

"I'm sorry," he touched her arm. "We're going to look at these test results and make sure there isn't anything more serious going on. On the plus side, he does remember you," he gave her another reassuring smile.

Monica shook her head. "He knows who I am, sure, but he doesn't really remember. We've been friends since college. He doesn't remember," she looked down, taking a deep breath. "He doesn't remember me as his wife, or even as his girlfriend," her eyes began to fill with tears, and the doctor pulled her to the side of the hallway.

"I know this is going to be hard for you," he began, "but this is going to be even harder for Chandler. He's going to be extremely frustrated and overwhelmed. It's going to be like he is being reintroduced to everything and everyone in his current life," he explained, and Monica nodded. "I'll let you know if I find out anything else, but for now, he'd probably like you in there," he added, and Monica sank back against the wall as he walked away.

Chandler didn't remember being with her. He didn't remember London, or sneaking around. He didn't remember his first spontaneous proposal, or Vegas, or moving in together. He didn't remember the real proposal, or their wedding. He didn't remember being with her. He remembered everything up until that point in time. She shook her head; someone had a very sick sense of humor. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, trying to compose herself before going back to Chandler's room, knowing that he had to be feeling a million times worse than she was at the moment.

_At least he doesn't know what he's missing_, she thought bitterly, but quickly kicked herself for it. She would never want to forget everything between them, never.

"Hi," Chandler greeted her as she entered, and Monica tried to force a smile.

"How-how do you feel?"

"Like I get hit by a bus, and then lost four years of my life," he deadpanned, and Monica managed a small laugh, sitting on the bed next to him. She again reached up to brush her tears away, but Chandler caught her left hand in his. He slowly ran his fingers over her ring for a moment, then looked up at her. "Are we…?" he trailed off.

"Yea," she smiled. "How did you-"

"Oh, I didn't have to be too much of a detective," he smiled back. "You have a ring. I have a ring. You're the only one here. You're the only one that's been here all day," he looked her in the eye, and she nodded, still biting her lip. "We're good together?" he asked, and she again nodded. "You're killing me with this, by the way," he wiped a few more tears from her cheeks, and she laughed slightly.

"Sorry…"

"Sorry for making you cry," he said softly, and she shook her head.

"You're not making me cry. This situation is making me cry."

Chandler laughed. "That's like your parents saying 'I'm not mad at you, just very disappointed.'"

"I'm sorry," Monica's face fell again.

"I was kidding, Mon," he played with her hand. "So, um, how did it happen?" he gave her a shy smile, and she grinned, but that smile soon fell.

"The doctor said not to overwhelm you," she started. "That's actually why I haven't called everyone else yet. He said you're going to be very overwhelmed and frustrated…"

"Overwhelm me," he stated. "Frustrate me. Tell me what I missed out on in the best four years of my life."

"How can you be so sure they were the best four years of your life?" Monica asked meekly.

"Because it's you. And you're crying so much over me not remembering them," he pulled her into his arms, giving her a tight hug, and letting her cry into his chest.

Monica squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, enjoying the embrace. She had been faced with the fear of losing him, and now, he was right there in front of her. She could deal with some memory loss a whole lot better than she could deal with a Chandler loss. Taking a deep breath, Monica pulled back slowly, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks. She could do this; it would be fine. He would be fine. He was fine. It was all going to be fine.

"London," she finally whispered. "It happened in London."

Chandler looked at her in disbelief. "At Ross's wedding?" Monica nodded slowly. "So, I can remember everything up until then…" he thought out loud. "How long have we been married?"

"A year next month."

Chandler smiled. "How many times have I gone all 'Chandler' on you and freaked out?"

Monica laughed at that. "A few," she nodded.

"Huh. And you put up with it?"

Monica smiled at him. "You're kind of worth it."

Chandler nodded. It all felt surreal, asking questions about the past four years of his life…asking questions about the past four years of his life _with her_. "Do…we have any kids?"

Monica didn't fail to notice the slight hesitation before that question. "No," she shook her head, "not yet."

Chandler nodded at that. "Has anything really bad happened in the past four years?"

"To you personally, or anyone we know? No," Monica shook her head. "In the world?"

Chandler laughed. "Obviously bad things have happened in the world in four years, but," he shook his head, "I can look up news online. Tell me the things I can't."

"What do you want to know?"

Chandler looked down for a moment, too many questions running through his mind to ask all at once. Finally, he settled on one, still in a slight state of shock at being married to her. "Are we happy?"

Monica smiled, squeezing his hand. "Very."

Chandler returned her smile for a moment, before continuing with the questions. "I didn't, by any chance, quit my job did I?" Monica laughed, shaking her head. Chandler shrugged. "Eh, worth a shot…."

~.~

_I literally have three more word documents open right now, and am working on the next part of this as well as the next parts of _Sometime around Midnight_ and _Mockingbird_ as we speak. My life's been crazy lately, but January should be calmer, which should hopefully mean more time to write. Although, I, crazy person that I am, signed up for my first full marathon this spring, and it's 18 weeks away, which means training officially begins…well, now, haha. _

_Thanks SO much for the reviews so far, and keep them up, please!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Mad World**

**Chapter 5**

~.~

_Thanks so much for the reviews! You guys are all amazing!_

_My fiancé and I are eloping. Next Tuesday. We've been engaged for two years, and I've tried, I've really tried, but I just don't care about the whole wedding thing (I must be missing that particular girl gene). And it's entirely too stressful and expensive to do for everyone else when we would rather just go get married on a beach, just us. So, we are. I've been dying to tell someone, and since I know none of you in real life, I'll tell you. :)_

~.~

"So," Chandler said, "Ross said Rachel's name at his wedding to Emily, they are having a baby together now, but at no point in the past four years have they _actually_ gotten back together?" Chandler asked, clarifying the most complicated of the stories he had gotten on his friends (excepting his own story, which Monica had only told him bits and pieces of, and he hadn't pressed for more) from the past four years.

"Right," Monica laughed, picking up the duffel bag of clothes she had brought to the hospital for him to change into before going home.

Chandler had only been there a few days since waking up, but other than the amnesia and a still healing leg, there was nothing wrong with him and no reason to stay. He'd shattered almost every bone in his right leg on the side of impact in the car, but surgeries and his time in a coma had allowed it to heal, and the day before, he had gotten the cast off of it and started physical therapy, which may have been the most painful part of the process. Well, the second most painful. He may not remember being married to Monica, but he had known her for a very long time, and he could tell, every time she walked into the room, that she held just a little bit of hope that _this_ time he would remember, _today_ he would remember her as his wife. And, every time, her face fell a little more when she realized today was not that day. This time was not that time. It was subtle, it wasn't tears or her making any kind of a big deal about it, but he knew her well enough to be able to tell. And that was the most painful part.

"Ready to go home?" Monica asked as Chandler half-hopped, half-leaned on one of his crutches as he moved the few steps from where he had been sitting on the bed, over to the wheelchair that had been brought in by the door.

"Definitely," Chandler nodded, silently hoping that being back in a familiar environment would help trigger some kind of memory. "Hey, um…do I know where home is?" Chandler asked meekly, that being one question he had been afraid to ask, going home to a home he entirely didn't know seeming a bit too much.

"Yea, you do," Monica smiled.

"Good," Chandler breathed out in relief. Maybe being somewhere familiar would trigger something, anything. He could only hope.

~.~

"Dude, do I have the final three seasons of _Baywatch _for you, or what?" Joey said, walking into Monica and Chandler's nearly the minute they walked through the door. He set down the duffel bag he was carrying on the coffee table in front of where Chandler was seated on the couch, unzipping and beginning to dig through it.

"_Baywatch_ got cancelled?" Chandler asked, slightly disappointed.

"Yea," Joey gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh-oh! _And_, also, the best Knicks and Rangers games," he held up a few cassette tapes before continuing to dig. "And, well, _Die Hard_, because, well, it's _Die Hard_," Joey shrugged, and Chandler nodded in approval.

"Thanks, man."

"Well, I have a date, so you enjoy those," he motioned to the bag, "and I will see you later." Joey then headed to the door. "Well, I'll actually see you tomorrow morning," he added with a smirk, nodding to himself as he walked out.

Chandler laughed. "Good to know some things never change, at least."

Monica nodded in agreement, coming into the living room, as well. "Yea, it is," she added softly, sitting down on the loveseat instead of the couch.

They made eye contact for a moment, both awkwardly silent. At the hospital, there had been a slight wall of protection up, somehow, the whole situation not quite sinking in. Now that they were home, though, that wall was gone, and all that was left was the reality of the situation. Monica broke the eye contact first, leaning forward to pretend to straighten a stack of magazines on the table. Chandler watched her for a moment before looking away, as well.

It felt weird to be there, which was odd to him, because Monica's place was almost more of a home to him than his apartment ever had been. But being there, knowing it was his apartment, too, little tidbits of himself here and there…it felt odd. Unsettling. He wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep and wake up and either remember the past four year or else just have it all be one messed up dream. Or a big practical joke.

Chandler looked up as Monica stood up, heading into the kitchen.

"Hungry?" she asked quietly, and Chandler nodded.

"Yea, hospital food kind of sucks."

Monica nodded in agreement, or at least in acknowledgment, and Chandler watched her for a moment, going over to the refrigerator to take inventory of exactly what she had and could make with it. He'd watched her do it many times over the years, and the familiar action was somewhat soothing. Anything familiar was soothing.

Chandler finally looked away, bitterly thinking that his luck in life would be to get Monica and not even remember any of it. He quickly swallowed that thought. No, he would not sulk. He would not sulk.

He would _not_ sulk. He repeated the thought a third time, digging through Joey's bag and pulling the tape out that read "Knicks Highlights: '99" with "'Law an Order'" in quotations and smaller print below it, hobbling over to put it in. He glanced at Monica once more as he sat down, now chopping something up, he couldn't tell what from where he was standing, wanting to ask if she was okay. That was a stupid question, though. Of course she wasn't okay. Her husband didn't remember being married to her. How would he even approach that question?

Luckily, the cheering of a crowd at a basketball game began to fill the room, the silence having felt stifling. Not too long into it, though, the picture cut out, Chandler instead seeing himself on the screen.

"Ground control to Major Tom. Commencing countdown, engines on."

Monica's head snapped up at the sound of the familiar recording, biting her lip as she remembered the last time this tape had made an appearance. The first anniversary they had celebrated, the silly fight over flirting, the earrings Rachel had lost….

Chandler laughed, hard, as Joey joined in, commencing said countdown as Chandler sang, appearing on screen, as well. He laughed until tears were streaming down his face, Monica joining in at the absurdity of the video the two grown men has made. They both laughed until the screen turned back to a basketball game, Chandler and Joey's performance cut-off halfway through.

Chandler again chuckled, shaking his head at himself. He'd been so concentrated on the big events of the past four years and what he had missed out on with Monica, that all of the little moments he couldn't remember hadn't sunk in yet. He suddenly began to wonder how many funny or touching moments he'd had in the past four years that he couldn't remember, how many little details no one could ever quite fill him in on that he was currently missing out on.

Closing his eyes as he sunk deeper into the couch, Chandler was hit with a sudden wave of something. He wasn't sure what emotion, exactly, to describe it as, but it was overwhelming. Unbearably overwhelming. How much didn't he remember? What if he could never remember? What if all of those memories, all of those moments, were lost forever? What if he never got them back? No amount of stories and photographs could make up for that much lost time.

Monica watched as Chandler's demeanor changed, as he went from laughing to the point of tears to nearly in tears in a matter of seconds. She bit her bottom lip, turning slowly back towards the counter, unsure of what to say to what was most likely Chandler now having all of the same worries and fears that she had had for the past few days. Swallowing the knot in her throat, Monica went back to chopping up an onion, glad for the excuse she now had for the tears she felt threatening.


	6. Chapter 6

**Mad World**

**Chapter 6**

~.~

_Wow, thanks so much for all of the reviews and well wishes! You guys rock :) From the lack of Mondler stories lately, I felt like there was a lack of Mondler fans, but I was very wrong. :) Glad you guys are still around!_

~.~

Chandler lay in the bed in the guestroom, a room that, in his mind, had been his not too long ago, after he and Joey had won the girls' apartment. It still smelled like girl, which it also had when he had last lived in it. It smelled like girl, and it felt like sleeping in someone else's room. Because it was someone else's room. His pillow was his, at least. But the rest of the room, not his.

It felt uncomfortable. The bed, the room, the past few days of being home. It felt uncomfortable and unrooting. Monica was avoiding him. Well, as much as she could avoid him while living in the same apartment as him. But, he got the distinct feeling that she was, indeed, avoiding him, or at least keeping him at a distance. A physical and emotional distance. She would sit as far away from him as possible, avoid any kind of physical contact, and when they talked, she avoided any real conversation. It wasn't the kind of relationship he had ever had with her, at any point in time. And it hurt. And her hurting hurt. It all hurt.

Chandler rolled over, burying his face in his pillow, which also smelled like girl. But it smelled comfortingly like Monica, like her shampoo and fabric softener, both of which he had been stealing for years whenever he was running low. He took one deep breath, and then two.

In the deafening silence of the room, Chandler suddenly looked up at the wall separating him from Monica. He held his breath, listening for a moment. Monica was crying. Closing his eyes, he again buried his face in his pillow.

This wasn't fair. This couldn't be his life. It was confusing and frustrating and not fair. He was almost looking forward to going back to work the next week, anything to bring a sense of normalcy.

Unable to lay there any longer, Chandler got up, heading into the living room. He headed towards Monica's room, but hesitated just outside the door. He wanted to ask if she was okay, tell her it was going to be okay, even though he didn't believe it, and hug her and just freeze everything and have everything be okay for just one minute. Or even thirty seconds. He would settle for thirty seconds of peace from this inner turmoil and frustration.

Looking at the ground, Chandler turned away from Monica's room, heading towards the kitchen, unable to bring himself to knock.

~.~

"Hey," Phoebe and a very pregnant Rachel greeted Chandler as they walked through the front door of his apartment.

"Hey," Chandler replied without looking up, frowning at his computer screen.

"What's up?" Phoebe asked as she and Rachel sat on the couch, looking intently at Chandler in the loveseat.

"Oh, lots," Chandler nodded. "Let's see, Clinton was impeached, Y2K came and went and literally nothing happened, terrorists flew a couple of planes into the World Trade Center, and Bush is President even though he didn't win the popular vote. What else," Chandler took a breath, "war, school shootings-"

"Okay, I think that's enough news for today," Phoebe reached across the coffee table, closing his laptop.

"I'm not just not going to know what happened the past four years," Chandler scoffed as Phoebe confiscated his computer.

"I'll give it back tomorrow…I just think that's enough bad news for today," Phoebe sat back down, having stuffed his laptop inside of her over-sized purse. "Is Monica working tonight?"

"Yea," Chandler nodded, looking at the two girls.

"How are you guys?" Rachel, who had been silent up until that point, asked. Monica had shrugged off the question when Rachel asked her, so she felt kind of sneaky asking Chandler, but was genuinely concerned.

Chandler shrugged.

"That good, huh?" Phoebe asked, and Chandler laughed slightly. "I'm honestly kind of surprised that 1998 Chandler is handling the whole waking up one day and being married thing so well."

Chandler again laughed. "Yea, well…it's Monica. It's not like I woke up married to some stranger." Chandler paused, thinking. "Or, ya know, one of you. No offense."

"None taken," both girls replied in unison.

"Are you guys really okay?" Phoebe asked, pressing the question that Rachel had let him drop.

Chandler sighed, then shook his head slowly. "Monica…is avoiding being around me. She's keeping me at a distance, emotionally and physically. And I-I don't know what to do to make it better."

"Talk to her," Rachel suggested softly.

"I just-I'm so bad at all of this relationship-y stuff," Chandler sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned further into his chair.

"You and Monica have been together for four years, so I think you're better than you think you are," Phoebe pointed out.

_I think you're better than you think you are_. The phrase resonated in Chandler's head. _I think you're better than you think you are_. Only it was Monica's voice saying it, not Phoebe's. He clung to the fleeting thought, the sound of her voice saying it, wishing he could place it. It felt like it was on the tip of his tongue. So close, yet out of reach.

_I think you're better than you think you are_.

"Earth to Chandler," Phoebe waved a hand in front of his face, and he blinked suddenly. "You okay?"

"Yea, fine," he nodded, "I just-yea, fine. You're probably right. I should just talk to her."

"Hey, have you eaten yet?" Rachel finally asked. "That's actually why we came over here. Wanna go grab some dinner?"

"Oh-oh! And, I have good news to read while we eat, to counteract all of the bad news," Phoebe added, and Chandler laughed, unable to even begin to predict what news Phoebe was going to read to him. In the chaotic mess inside his head, he again found himself comforted by the fact that some things never change.

~.~

"Hey." Monica nearly jumped when she was greeted by Chandler sitting at the kitchen table, not having expected him to wait up so late for her after work.

"Hey," Monica replied, setting her purse down on the counter and slipping off her jacket as she headed towards her bedroom.

"I wish you would stop," Chandler called out after her.

Monica stopped, turning around. "What?"

"I wish you would stop," Chandler repeated, standing up.

"Stop what?"

"Stop…doing this," he motioned between them. "Stop avoiding me and distancing yourself from me. Because this has never been what our relationship has been like at any point in the past ten year. And I know this sucks. This whole situation really, really sucks. And it hurts. And I wish more than anything in the world that I could remember the past four years," Chandler continued. "But I can't. And," he took a deep breath, having a hard time saying his greatest fear, her greatest fear, out loud. "And, it might never happen, Mon," he continued softly. "I might never remember. I might never get that time back. A-and if I don't," Chandler continued softly, tears now in Monica's eyes, "we have to do something here if we want this marriage to work. And I have a feeling that both of us do," he looked her in the eye, and she nodded, taking a couple of steps towards him, closing the gap.

"I don't know what to do here," Chandler shrugged. "Start over? Start by dating again? I don't know," he again shrugged helplessly. "But I do know that…I don't want to lose you. And I don't want both of us to be miserable."

"Me, neither," Monica whispered, taking a final step to completely close the gap between them, now standing directly in front of him. "And I'm sorry for how I've been acting, I just," she paused, unsure of herself. "God, this is going to sound so stupid, because you're standing right here in front of me, but…I miss my husband…."

Chandler felt tears sting the back of his eyes at that. "I'm sorry," he whispered in reply.

Monica shook her head. "No, I'm sorry."

"We can both be sorry?" Chandler whispered, and Monica nodded, accepting his arms as he wrapped them around her, burying her face in his chest.

"I really am sorry," she again whispered. She knew she had been distant with him, trying so hard to hold herself together that she had all but forgotten about the man that was the reason she was falling apart.

"I know," Chandler replied softly when she trailed off. He tightened his arms around her, squeezing her tightly, relieved when she did the same.

Chandler closed his eyes, finally finding his thirty seconds of peace.


	7. Chapter 7

**Mad World**

**Chapter 7**

~.~

_Thanks, again, for the reviews! You are all ahhh-mazing!_

_Sorry for the delays between updates…I've had a bit of a writer's block lately. The storylines are in my head, but the words just won't come out right, ugh. _

_I got into grad school! Oh, 2011…marriage, grad school, turning 25…this year is turning out to be pretty epic for me :)_

_Man, I am all over the place. On with the story…._

~.~

Chandler sat on the couch, reading the morning newspaper. Though he had spent the past week or so catching up on world news online, he felt like there was no way he could ever catch up on four year's worth of events in his own life, let alone in the world, so reading that morning's news was a bit like skipping ahead a few chapters in a book. Actually, living his life without remembering the past four years felt a bit like skipping ahead a few chapters in a really gripping book. It had felt rather unnerving so far, but today, it felt a little different. A little better, a little bit easier. Not normal, but better.

Talking to Monica had helped.

Monica poured herself a cup of coffee, pausing for a moment before pouring Chandler one, as well. She had realized she had been shutting him out completely for the last week, but not because she meant to. She had just been existing the best that she could given how badly she was hurting and falling apart inside. But, he was right. About everything. They had never had the kind of relationship she was giving to him. And…he might never get his memory back. And, if that was the case, they needed to do something, because she didn't want to lose him, and she was comforted by the fact that he didn't want to lose her.

Walking over to the couch, Monica sat down, cross-legged, beside Chandler, her knee overlapping his leg. She smiled as she set both coffee mugs on the table in front of them, reaching for one of the sections of the newspaper he had already discarded. Chandler placed his hand on her knee as they both remained silent, Monica trying her best to remember how much she had loved Chandler back before she _loved_ Chandler. She tried to remember how they had acted back then, what the appropriate way to be around him was. They had cuddled. They had flirted. She had sat next to him given the opportunity, because she liked how affectionate he was. He would look at her after he told a joke to see if he had made her laugh.

A lot, she decided as she scanned the front page of the paper. She had loved him a lot before she ever _loved_ him.

Ross walked in, slamming the front door shut behind him as he made his way over to the loveseat. "If she doesn't have this baby soon, I swear to god, I'm gonna pull it out of her."

"Good morning to you, too, Ross," Chandler laughed, and Ross scowled at him.

"Only a couple weeks left, right?" Monica added.

"Longest sixteen days of my life," Ross sighed. "Wanna borrow her for the next couple of weeks? You'll hardly know she's here…."

The door slowly opened, a miserable-looking Rachel appearing from behind it. "Really, Ross? You're gonna run up the stairs to beat me?"

"I thought we were racing," Ross shrugged unconvincingly, and Rachel rolled her eyes, making her way, more slowly, over to the couch. She stopped, though, looking at Chandler and Monica on the couch together, interrupting what felt like something.

"Shouldn't we get going, Ross?" she asked, looking at him.

Ross looked at his watch. "Your appointment isn't for another hour."

"Well, there could be traffic."

"It takes ten minutes to get there."

"Maybe if we get there early, we can see the doctor early, and you won't have to be so late to work."

"Or, if we get there early, maybe we will just be sitting in the waiting room for forty-five minutes, waiting."

"Ugh, Ross," Rachel finally said in frustration.

"Really?" Chandler looked at Ross. "You're gonna argue with the woman carrying your child?"

"Thank you, Chandler," Rachel sighed in relief.

"Yea, thanks for that, man," Ross said sarcastically, patting him on the shoulder as he walked by. "Guess we'll see you guys later."

"Bye," Monica called out as they left, a comfortable silence following as she and Chandler continued to sit reading the paper. "What time do you have physical therapy today?" Monica finally asked.

"Two," Chandler replied, reaching for the cup of coffee in front of him. "You work at eleven?"

Monica nodded, looking around while trying to look like she wasn't looking around, not seeing the crutches she was looking for. "Are you still supposed to be using crutches?"

Chandler smiled. "If I say no, will you believe me?" Monica shook her head, and Chandler laughed, looking around, as well. "Well, they're here somewhere." Giving up, he shrugged. "Hey, um, do you work late tomorrow night?"

"No, tomorrow's my night off."

"That's what I thought," Chandler smiled. "Would you want to go do something tomorrow night? Dinner or a movie or something?"

Monica smiled. He was asking her out on a date. "That would be great," she nodded, and Chandler smiled, again settling into the couch next to her.

"The course of events in my life would be to ask my wife on a first date the year after marrying her," he attempted a joke, but Monica recognized the more self-deprecating side of him that she hadn't seen much of in quite some time.

So, instead of saying anything, she leaned into him, rubbing his arm reassuringly, happy that his response to that was draping an arm across the back of the couch around her.

It was all progress.

~.~

"Hey."

Chandler looked up from the photo album he was looking at as Rachel walked through the door, heading over to the couch, next to where he was sitting.

"Hey," he replied warily, and she laughed.

"Be nice," Rachel warned, jokingly, "or I will be as bitchy to you as I am to Ross."

Chandler laughed at that, going back to looking at the pictures in front of him. "Wanna narrate for me?" he finally asked slowly.

"What?"

Chandler closed the album he was going through, grabbing another one off of the stack he had on the coffee table in front of them. "Wanna narrate for me?" he asked, flipping through the first few pages that he remembered: a few from Montauk, a few from the last New Year's Eve that he remembered, pictures from when he and Joey switched apartments with the girls.

"Have you asked Monica to?"

Chandler sighed. "No. I mean, I've asked her things, but the thing is…I don't want her to give too much away. I've read that a lot of people with amnesia, they start to question whether or not certain events are actually recovered memories, or if they've just been told so many times about them in such detail that they actually start to think of it as a memory, when it's really just a story they've been told," he trailed off, flipping through a couple more pages. "I don't want her to give everything away. I want big picture stuff," he stopped at pictures that he presumed were from Ross's wedding. "You can give me big picture stuff without giving too much away." He moved over, handing her the album.

Rachel smiled. "Ross and Emily's wedding reception," she laughed, remembering the fiasco that night had been. "I have no idea where that one came from," she pointed to one of him and Monica dancing that looked like it had been taken by a professional photographer."

"I looked at the backs of some of them," Chandler smiled. "Emily sent it to her."

"Ah," Rachel nodded, flipping through a few more. "I'm not going to be any help on any of these that are just the two of you," she shook her head, "you guys were dating in secret for quite awhile."

"How long?"

"God, four or five months?" Rachel laughed. "I don't know how it took so long for all of us to find out. Once I found out, I couldn't believe how obvious you guys were being about it. And we were all completely oblivious. Well, except Joey, somehow…."

"Huh."

"I would guess that is you and baby girl Chandler," she pointed to one of him holding one of the triplets at the hospital.

"There isn't a part of that sentence I understood," Chandler laughed.

"Phoebe was a surrogate for Frank and Alice. She had triplets and got to name one of them," she explained, and Chandler smiled.

"And she picked Chandler?" he asked, touched, and Rachel nodded. "Kind of a masculine name, though, isn't it?"

Rachel shrugged. "Works on you."

_Works on you._

"What?" he looked at her, recognizing that phrase.

"She was supposed to be a boy," Rachel again shrugged, flipping through a few more pages. "New Year's," she pointed to a picture.

"I got that from the hats," Chandler nodded.

"Right."

"I said I didn't want too much given away, but," Chandler paused, smiling, "I watched our wedding video earlier."

"And?"

"Well, I watched it twice. And may or may not have cried," he smiled slightly. "But I'm pretty sure that's one of those things you're allowed to cry at and still be considered a man."

"Pretty sure," Rachel laughed slightly in agreement. "Are you okay?" she looked up at him.

He nodded slowly. "Better. Getting to okay."

"You talked to Monica, I'm guessing? Because you guys seem better."

"Yes, and getting there," he repeated, still flipping through the pictures.

Rachel nodded, looking at the pictures, too. "Good."

~.~

Chandler stood in the living room, halfway between Monica's bedroom door and the bathroom door, waiting for Monica to come out.

Dinner had been fun. He had asked her what her favorite moment with him ever was (the night they got engaged, when it was just the two of them dancing alone in their living room, candles still lit, completely happy), she had asked him what his favorite memory with her was (at the hospital after Ben was born, she had apologized to him for being so offended at his earlier offer to be her back-up and had, jokingly, told him there were worst guys in the world to end up with than him and had kissed him on the cheek before he hugged her), he had asked about her work for the past four years, and she had asked if he was excited to go back to work. He told her he watched their wedding video and cried, and she looked like she could cry. And they had talked, and laughed, and he had known why something that wasn't supposed to go past one night had lasted.

There was just one more thing….

As Monica walked out of the bathroom, Chandler smiled, walking over to her. She looked at him questioningly, because he looked like he was going to say something, but when he stopped in front of her, he was silent. Instead, he kissed her, slipping one arm around her waist, the other hand on her face. And Monica immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, having missed kissing him, having needed to kiss him. She knew his kisses, knew this kiss wasn't leading to anything but a kiss, and that was completely fine.

Pulling back slowly, Chandler smiled, touching her cheek as he whispered, "Goodnight," before walking into the bathroom to get ready for bed, leaving her standing in the living room, staring at the closed door, the feeling in the pit of her stomach somewhere between elation and turmoil because in that moment she missed her husband more than she could ever say, but was glad for what she still had, where she was getting with him.

And Chandler closed his eyes once he was on the other side of the closed door, feeling the exact same way.


	8. Chapter 8

**Mad World**

**Chapter 8**

~.~

_10 reviews for one update SO isn't the norm here anymore, so thank you, thank you, THANK YOU guys for that!_

~.~

"Hey," Phoebe greeted Monica as she walked into Central Perk, sitting on the couch beside her.

"Hey."

"Did Chandler go back to work today?" Phoebe asked, and Monica nodded, taking a drink of her coffee. "How's it going with you two?"

Monica nodded, thinking that through. "Better. Good, I guess, considering the situation," she paused. "In all honesty, better than I thought. I kind of expected him to freak out about the whole being married thing…."

"Yea, Mon, but it's to you," Phoebe pointed out, motioning for Gunther to stop as he walked by them. "The usual," she smiled at him before turning back to Monica. "He's always loved you." Monica wrinkled her forehead at that, so Phoebe corrected herself. "Not, like, he was pining over you for as long as he's known you, but…you've kind of always held a special place with him, at least for as long as I've known you guys. He's always loved you…the warm, squishy kind of love."

Monica nodded. "That's kind of what he said, in not so many words…."

"See?" Phoebe smiled, taking her coffee from Gunther. "Thanks."

"I just," Monica sighed, looking down. "I'm thankful he's still here, because he came so close to…" she trailed off, shaking her head slightly. "But, it's just…frustrating. And he's trying so hard, I know he's trying so hard, and it's almost kind of fun to get to relive the beginning part of our relationship, but I just wish that…everything could just go back to normal," she finished in a whisper, feeling guilty for saying those words out loud.

"I know," Phoebe replied softly, rubbing her arm reassuringly. "I'm sure he does, too."

~.~

"Hey, how was work?" Monica greeted Chandler as he came through the door, still on crutches, after his first day back to work.

Chandler laughed at that. "Surprisingly, and, perhaps depressingly, almost like I had never been gone."

"Really?"

"Well, there's a few new people, a few people who were gone, but," Chandler shrugged, leaning his crutches against the counter as he slightly limped over to where she was sitting in the living room, "yea, it felt more like I went on vacation for a week than completely missed out on four years."

"I don't know if that's a good thing or…"

"Kind of pathetic?" Chandler finished for Monica as he sat down on the couch beside her, and Monica nodded, laughing slightly. "A little bit of both," he conceded, having been glad for something so familiar, something he could remember. "Doug kept checking up on me all day. I'm about Doug-ed out," Chandler closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "Helen brought me cookies."

"That was nice of her."

"Yea," he smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. He loved kissing her. God, did he love kissing her. They had spent a lot of time hanging out alone in the past couple of weeks, which had given him a lot of time to kiss her. He guessed everyone else was giving them some space and alone time, which he was thankful for, because while he still wanted to figure out all aspects of his life from the past four years, figuring out his relationship with Monica seemed most important.

"So, what'd you do on your day off?" Chandler asked as Monica snuggled up beside him on the couch, resting her head on his chest, arm strewn across him.

"Cleaned. Did some laundry."

"Pretty good day, then?" Chandler asked, a question that would have been sarcastic directed at anyone else, but was serious towards her.

"Mmhmm," she nodded, and Chandler leaned down, kissing her forehead. She was clinging to whatever he would give her lately, and he was truthfully clinging to her back. Because everything with Monica felt so…surreal, yet familiar. And he kept waiting for that moment when more than just a phrase or action resonated with him. Because eventually it had to.

Eventually, he kept telling himself, clinging to the thought, eventually, it had to.

~.~

"Hey," Chandler greeted Monica as he walked through the door, carrying two sacks, setting one on the table.

"Hey, no crutches!" Monica pointed out, and Chandler nodded.

"No crutches," he grinned. "And, I am up to movies released in 2000, so, for your viewing pleasure tonight, you can choose from _Mission Impossible II_, _What Women Want_, _Cast Away_, and _Meet the Parents_," he dug through the sack before setting it on the table. "Joey had a few other, slightly dirtier sounding suggestions, but I shot those down."

Monica laughed. "Well, whatever you want to watch is fine, since I've kind of seen all of them."

"I need to find someone who never watches movies to catch up on my movie-watching with," Chandler shot back playfully. "And, I got Chinese food for dinner," he grabbed for the other sack, pulling out its contents.

"How did you know what I like?" Monica asked, opening the take-out containers, the first one being her favorite, cashew chicken.

"Because in the past fifteen years, we've probably ordered Chinese together, oh, about a million times," he smiled, grabbing a plate for each of them.

"I knew I smelled food!" Joey came through the front door. "Ooh, Chinese," he grinned, and Chandler handed him his own container. "Thanks," he grabbed a fork, heading over to the couch to sit down, planning on eating straight out of the take-out box. "So, which movie's first?" he asked, sitting in the love seat.

"_What Women Want_?" Chandler suggested slowly, and Joey made a face at that.

"You would choose the chick flick," he sighed, standing back up. "Let me know when you start the next movie," he added, taking his food with him as he headed out the door.

"Chandler Bing, are you trying to get me alone?" Monica smiled playfully, brushing against him as she walked past him and into the living room, taking her plate and the movie with her.

"Mmm, guilty," Chandler grinned in return, following close behind.

~.~

Chandler looked up at _Cast Away_, which was still playing on the screen, and then down at Monica, who had fallen asleep on the couch, curled up beside him, both of them laying down. He carefully reached across her, turning the volume down using the remote, before grabbing the blanket from the other end of the couch, covering both of them up. He kissed her forehead, settling back down beside her, almost instantly falling asleep with her in his arms.

~.~

Monica woke up, immediately aware that she was in Chandler's arms. She didn't open her eyes, not wanting to be fully awake and aware of the situation, wanting to stay right there in that moment, sleeping with Chandler's arms around her, legs tangled between his on the small space of the couch.

Her bladder would have nothing of the sort.

They had gotten through all of _What Women Want_ and about half of _Cast Away_ that she remembered. Monica disentangled herself from Chandler's embrace, careful not to wake him, fully intending on coming back to the exact same position as soon as she used the bathroom. He made a pained noise as she removed her legs from beneath his bad leg, so she grabbed the pillow from the loveseat, propping his leg up with it, before heading into the bathroom.

Monica tip-toed back across the living room to the couch, facing towards Chandler as she lay back down, trying to her best not to wake him as she fit her body against his. Her attempt was unsuccessful, though, as Chandler's eyes fluttered open, confusion of still being half-asleep evident.

"I had to pee," she whispered, "go back to sleep."

He held eye contact, though, instead of closing his eyes. Monica's heart beat heavily in her chest as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer.

She knew that look.

Because of that, it came as no surprise when he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his own, hands moving below her shirt, the feeling of his hands on bare skin something she had been missing, craving, needing for weeks now. So, she kissed back, her own hands moving beneath his shirt, across his stomach, chest, shoulders, running down his back and over his butt as he moved on top of her, taking in every inch of him that she had been missing.

And he continued to kiss her, on the mouth, down her neck, pulling her shirt up and over her head before again finding her lips with his own as she drug his shirt up and over his head, as well, slowly dragging her fingertips down his back. He unclasped her bra, cupping her breasts before rubbing her nipples between his fingertips, the soft moan it elicited being the end of his coherent thoughts.

Monica unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down as he kicked them off, fumbling to pull off her pants, as well. And then they were both naked, Monica wrapping her legs around his back as he moved between her legs, pushing into her, both of them gasping, Chandler kissing her harder than before, almost desperately, as if her mouth held all of the answers he was looking for.

This felt familiar. Everything about this felt familiar. It felt like an eerie déjà vu. Like he had experienced it before but couldn't put his finger on it.

Of course he had experience this before. They were married. They had been together four years. He had probably done this hundreds of times before.

His body somehow knew (even if he wasn't consciously aware that he knew) exactly how to move, exactly where to touch her to get all of the responses he wanted, to get her to moan his name, to tremble beneath him. It was fast and hurried and a blur of sweat and kisses as he collapsed on top of her, her arms and legs still wrapped tightly around him as they both recovered, attempting to each catch their breath. Chandler was the first to move, pushing himself up slightly from on top of her, feeling like he had been crushing her. She touched his cheek with her fingertips, and he leaned back down, kissing her softly on the lips, before leaning his forehead against hers.

Monica closed her eyes, enjoying the moment with him, the warmth of his body, the weight of him on top of her, the post-coital bliss. He pulled back slightly, Monica opening her eyes, keeping her hand on the back of his neck. "Wanna go to bed?" she whispered, and Chandler nodded, so they stood up from the mess of blankets and entangled limbs and moved into the bedroom, still tangled up in the blankets and each other as they headed into her room to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Mad World**

**Chapter 9**

~.~

_Thank you, once more, for the reviews! I'd honestly forgotten how much I loved Mondler in all of my Randler-writing lately. I might even have to write another story after this one is over…or at least post one or two of the half-finished series I have sitting here on my computer. If I have time…._ _I only have one day a week to write—damn being a grown up! and marathon training! I love running, but, man, is it time-consuming!_

~.~

Monica woke up, again immediately aware that she was in Chandler's embrace. She remained completely still, eyes closed, feigning sleep, dragging the moment out as long as possible. She pretended that the past few months had never happened, that it was just another morning waking up beside him. He moved slightly, and she knew he was awake, probably doing the exact same thing she was.

Giving in, Monica rolled over to face him, and he kissed her before she lay her head on his chest, again closing her eyes. She wanted to say she loved him. She'd actually, physically, bit her tongue the night before, to keep herself from saying it. She wanted to wake up one day and have this all be over with, have the past few months all be a terrible dream.

"I'm trying, Mon," Chandler whispered, and Monica nodded against his bare chest, reaching up to wipe away the tears that she hadn't meant to allow to fall. "I'm trying to catch up to you as fast as I can." Monica again nodded, and Chandler tightened his arms around her in a hug.

After a moment, Monica finally looked up, moving beside him on the pillow. "Sorry, I didn't mean to cry, I just…" she trailed off, and Chandler nodded, because he understood. And then he kissed her again, because he needed to kiss her again, and she kissed him back, and he wished he could spend all day in bed with her, willing himself into remembering something. Because he had to remember something soon, something concrete.

Her hand was around him.

Probably because he was hard against the front of her thigh.

What was he trying to remember, again? She slid on top of him, and he moaned softly, running his hands across her smooth skin, down her sides. Apparently his feelings for spending all day with her in bed were completely reciprocated. "Mon," he whispered, a thought suddenly crossing his mind. "Mmmm, Mon," he repeated, her kisses down his chest moving lower and lower.

"Hm?" she finally responded, laying flat against him as she again kissed him on the mouth.

"Hey, um, awkward question," he whispered, his hands moving down her back and across her smooth butt, all kinds of skin-on-skin making it hard for him to concentrate.

"Yea," Monica responded, laughing slightly when he dropped the question, going back to kissing her. "Yes," she repeated, pulling back slightly, and Chandler's hands stopped their roaming.

"I, um, hm," he stammered nervously. "Are, um, are you on the pill, or something?" he asked, and Monica suddenly realized that while they hadn't been using protection before, a baby probably wasn't something this Chandler was ready for.

Monica smiled slightly. "No, um, actually," she paused, "we, um, we hadn't officially had the whole baby talk yet, but…we weren't being so careful about…not trying to have one," she finished softly.

"Oh," Chandler said, almost in shock. He was ready for a kid?

"There's probably some condoms somewhere," she rolled off of him, digging through her nightstand. "Or not," she frowned, finding nothing.

They both paused for a moment.

"I should probably get up and get ready for work, anyway," Chandler offered, and Monica nodded. He kissed her once more, the slight awkwardness fading as he did, before standing up and heading straight for the drawer he had learned was his. He had accepted the guest room as his, but hadn't moved any of his things out of the room they had shared, because doing so would be admitting this not remembering thing would be permanent, and that there was nothing they could do to make this work.

Pulling on his boxers, Chandler opened the bedroom door, closing it again behind him as he pulled on a tshirt, as well.

"Well, good morning, you," Phoebe said with a grin, Joey giving him the exact same look.

"Morning," Chandler replied, moving slowly towards them.

"Have a good night, then?" Joey asked, taking a bite of the pancakes in front of him.

"Did you make pancakes?" he looked at Joey in confusion.

Joey shook his head, "Don't change the subject."

"Or, if you're going to change the subject, at least change it to Rachel and the fact that she's in labor," Phoebe interjected.

"What? Rachel's having a baby right now?" Chandler asked in shock, not believing that wasn't something they would have gotten him and Monica up for. Phoebe and Joey both nodded, continuing to eat their pancakes.

"But, seriously, have fun last night?" Joey asked, raising his eyebrows.

Chandler paused. "So, Rachel's having a baby, and you guys are more interested in eating breakfast and hearing about my sex life?" he asked, making sure he was getting it straight.

"Well, she _just_ went into labor like an hour ago, so it's not like she's having a baby _right now_," Phoebe corrected Chandler, who moved to answer the ringing phone, but Monica must have beat him to it in the bedroom because it stopped. "Ooh, speaking of labor, when I went into labor with the triplets, my water broke right there!" Phoebe pointed to where Chandler, who moved quickly in disgust, was standing.

"Rachel's in labor!" Monica burst through the bedroom door. "And wondering where we are," she looked sternly at Phoebe and Joey, who were still eating.

"Okay, it's not like she's having the baby _right now_," Phoebe again pointed out. "She's dilated, like, one centimeter. That's this much," she held her fingers apart. "A baby is not coming out of that anytime soon..."

"Eww, Phoebs, I'm eating," Joey set down his fork in disgust.

"C'mon, we need to get to the hospital!" Monica walked over to the kitchen, taking the plates from in front of Phoebe and Joey, who protested slightly. Chandler watched in amusement; it was nice to know that some things never did change. "Okay, ten minutes people," she pointed a threatening finger at them before heading into the bathroom to get ready. Phoebe and Joey looked to Chandler once she was out of the room

Chandler shrugged, heading towards the bedroom to get dressed. "You heard the lady…."


	10. Chapter 10

**Mad World**

**Chapter 10**

~.~

_I own no lines blatantly stolen from canon. It's been a while since I had a disclaimer. I should probably say I don't own the characters I've been playing around with for the past decade, too. _

~.~

Joey looked at the cards in his hand, frowning. Chandler and Phoebe both sighed audibly, almost in unison, from their seats on either side of him in the waiting room. Phoebe's prediction had been correct, and Rachel was nowhere near actually giving birth when she called, so Phoebe and Joey would have had plenty of time to finish breakfast. And then some.

Twelve hours of very little progress later, they still sat in the waiting room, waiting. Monica had called her parents and then gone to wait with Rachel and Ross, leaving the other three to their card game.

"Wait," Joey shook his heads, still looking at his cards. "How do you play Gin again?"

Chandler and Phoebe looked at each other before throwing their cards on the coffee table in front of them.

"C'mon, just explain one more time and I'll get it!" Joey pleaded, picking up the cards and shuffling them.

~.~

"M my name is Mark and my wife's name is Martha. We come from Montana and we sell markers," Joey nodded for Phoebe to go.

"N my name is Nancy and my husband's name is Ned. We come from Nevada and we sell nothing," Phoebe continued.

"O my name is-"

"Oh my god," Chandler cut Joey off, throwing the magazine he had been attempting to read on the table beside him. "Hungry?" he looked at Monica, unable to take the remainder of Joey and Phoebe's game.

"Starving," she nodded, and the two of them took off in search of the vending machines they had seen.

Joey and Phoebe shrugged.

"O my name is Oscar and my wife's name is Olivia. We come from Oregon and we sell oregano."

"Clever," Phoebe smiled. "P my name is Phoebe, ooh, ooh," Phoebe grinned, pointing to herself, "and my husband's name is Peter…."

~.~

Chandler closed his eyes, attempting to sleep, for at least a few minutes in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. They had now been at the hospital for going on twenty-four hours, and there was still no baby. As Monica leaned her head against his shoulder, also attempting to sleep, Chandler snuggled closer, kissing the top of her head before drifting off to sleep.

~.~

Thirty-six hours. Thirty-six hours and no baby.

The four in the waiting room had taken turns going in to see Rachel, but now that she had been moved to the delivery room, they were all waiting in anticipation. They had also exhausted all forms of entertainment available to them, and Joey was now slouched down in his chair, nearly asleep next to Phoebe, who was playing Cat's Cradle with a piece of floss from her purse that she had tied together. Monica was mindlessly flipping through a magazine for the third time, trying hard not to think of the nearly two months she had spent in that exact building in a nearly identical waiting room and how close she had come to losing Chandler in that time. Because all of this time spent there today was starting to feel eerily similar to that, and she kept glancing at Chandler beside her to assure herself that he was, in fact, there.

Chandler, on the other hand, was now thinking about the last time he remembered being there for a birth (though he knew he had been there when Phoebe had the triplets, he didn't remember it), and it had been Ben. He smiled to himself, thinking of the conversation with Monica in the waiting room, offering to have a baby with her if neither of them was married by the time they were forty.

Funny how life had turned out.

Even if he couldn't remember a good chunk of it.

"I'm gonna go grab some coffee," Chandler finally stood up, about to fall asleep again and needing to walk around. "Anyone else want any?" he glanced first at Monica, and then to Joey and Phoebe. Monica and Joey shook their heads.

"I'll take some," Phoebe nodded.

"Be right back," Chandler added, turning down the hallway, a sense of familiarity rushing over him.

_When we're forty, if neither of us is married…what do you say you and I get together and have one?_

_Why won't I be married when I'm 40?_

Chandler hit the down button on the elevator, taking it down to the next floor before stepping off.

There was that déjà vu feeling again.

_I don't know if you've ever looked up the term 'goofing around' in the dictionary before._

He had been here before. Right here. He could feel it. He could almost remember it. He continued walking, mind on overdrive.

_Well, I have, and the technical definition is two friends-_

With Monica. He had been right here, with Monica. Sat right here, with Monica.

-_who care a lot about each other and have amazing sex and just wanna spend more time together._

When the triplets were born.

_But if you have this new fangled dictionary that gets you made at me, then we have to, y'know, get you my original dictionary. I am __**so**__ bad at this._

And Monica was going to go out with that nurse because Chandler said they were only goofing around.

_I think you're better than you think you are._

I think you're better than you think you are.

I think you're better than you think you are.

He had been right there, with Monica, having a conversation about what they were, when Phoebe was having the triplets. After coming back from London.

London.

_I'm still on London time, does that count?_

Chandler was now all but running back towards the elevator and then past it, up the stairwell at the far end of the hallway, in too much of a hurry to wait.

_I tell ya what. You roll another hard eight, and we get married here, tonight._

He continued as fast as he could, down the next hallway.

_The only thing that matters is that you, you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And if you let me-_

Chandler slowed down, turning the corner back to the waiting room, pausing once Monica was in site, attempting to swallow the knot forming in his throat.

_-I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way_

"Could you not find the cafeteria?" Phoebe asked, looking up as Chandler slowly walked towards them. "It's one floor down, directly below us," she explained, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Monica. He had tunnel vision through which he could only see Monica.

He licked his lips, taking a deep breath. "I'm still on London time, does that count?" he whispered, finally finding his voice.

Monica looked up slowly. "What did-what did you just say?" She didn't want to think it meant anything more than it did. It could be a phrase he remembered, a moment. She didn't want to get worked up over nothing.

"I'm still on London time, does that count?" he repeated slowly, on the verge of tears, and Monica bit her bottom lip.

"Is that, is that all or-"

Chandler shook his head. "Being over international waters. Joey finding out about us because of an eyelash curler. Proposing to you the first time because I was scared. Vegas for our first anniversary. Almost getting married in Vegas. Moving in together. A third, real proposal-"

Monica cut him off, throwing her arms around his neck as she hugged him, hard, tears streaming down her face.

"Any surprises that come our way, it's okay, because I will always love you," Chandler quoted his own wedding vows, and Monica lost it completely, both of them clinging to each other, a mess of limbs and tears. "God, I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Monica choked out, "oh my god," she tightened her arms around him, the moment feeling surreal after the past few months. He lifted her off the floor he was holding her so tightly, and Monica clung back. She needed to hold him, needed to feel him, needed reassurance that this moment was real, that she wasn't going to wake up from it.

"Do me next," Joey bounced up and down as they slowly pulled away, Chandler's arm still around Monica's waist as she wiped away her tears. Chandler just laughed.

"What?"

"Tell me the past four years of my life!" Joey said giddily, and all Chandler could do was laugh some more, too happy for any other response. Phoebe smacked Joey lightly on the back of the head. "What was that for?" he turned towards her.

"It's a girl!" Ross ran into the waiting room. "She's a girl! A perfect, beautiful baby girl!"

"Chandler remembers!" Joey countered back, pointing to Chandler.

"Had to get us back for stealing your thunder on your engagement night, didn't you?" Ross joked, turning towards Chandler and Monica, who both laughed. "Anyway, I'd better get back. I'll come get you guys when you can see her," Ross added, heading back to Rachel and his new baby.

~.~

"Look who I found," Ross said, opening the door for Chandler, Monica, Phoebe and Joey.

"Hi," Rachel smiled as they filed slowly into her room.

"Oh my gosh, look at her!" Monica was the first one in, followed close behind by Chandler.

"She's so tiny and perfect!" Phoebe added as Rachel handed the baby to Monica.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Monica cradled the baby in her arms, Chandler reaching out to touch the baby's hand, "but I'm so glad you guys got drunk and had sex!"

"Me, too," Rachel nodded in agreement, smiling at Ross.

"She's like a real person!" Joey took her from Rachel.

Chandler, though, wasn't listening to the rest of the conversation. "We should have one of those," he leaned closer to Monica's ear, wrapping his arms completely around her waist from behind. "Now."

"Now?" Monica asked, looking at the baby, but concentrating on his breath against her cheek. He nodded, his stubble from not shaving from the past couple of days rough against her cheek. "Now, now?" she asked, pointing towards the door, and Chandler laughed slightly.

"Well, maybe when we get home."

"I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he kissed her cheek.

"Monica," Phoebe said, it having been the second time she repeated her name, and Monica finally turned towards her. "Baby name crisis. You've had yours picked out since you were fourteen. Baby names: go."

Monica laughed. "Well, if it's a boy, it's Daniel."

Rachel looked at her expectantly. "And if it's a girl?"

"I don't want to say…."

"Oh, c'mon, we're not gonna want it."

"Okay," Monica smiled, "it's Emma."

"Emma…" Rachel teared up, looking down at the baby girl in her arms. "See? I don't want it," Rachel choked out, unsuccessfully trying to hold in tears.

"Take it."

"What?" Rachel looked up at Monica in surprise, not expecting that from Monica, of all people.

"Take it," Monica nodded. "She's clearly an Emma."

"But you love that name."

"Yea, but I love you more," she smiled at Rachel. "Besides, nothing goes with Bing, so I'm screwed," she turned slightly, smiling teasingly at Chandler, who smiled back. She was a tiny bit serious about the name, but at the same time, there was no one else's last name she would want her children to have.

"I think today's my favorite day ever," Rachel smiled, taking Emma back as Monica handed her over, looking down at the baby, and then up at Ross.

"Mine, too," Monica and Chandler said in unison, smiling at each other softly after they did.

Because, on that day, in that moment in time, despite everything that had gone wrong in the past few months and past few weeks, in that little hospital room, surrounded by everyone they loved and the feeling of new life and the excitement of Chandler remembering, everything was suddenly, in drastic contrast, right in their world.

~.~

_And, ladies and gentlemen, there ya have it :) I can't believe I actually did it in ten chapters like I said I would, ha! Thanks so much for the reviews, I appreciate each and every one of them. And a special little thanks to Exintaris and Friendsfan101 for their loyalty…I think they've both read and reviewed nearly every chapter I've posted here for the past almost two years (can you believe I've been back two years? Sheesh, time flies), and I appreciate it…more than words can say._

_I think I will probably write another Mondler fic, since there's currently the audience for it. I have two in progress saved on my computer (one that I can't find to save my life, but I know it's there!), so I might pick up with one of them. As long as you guys stick around. Deal?  
_

_ Anyway, thanks again to all of you readers and reviewers. I'm always a bit saddened when I finish a fic…something about the finality of it. Such is life, I suppose…._


End file.
